Very weird dream, lots of detail, but hard to remember the sequence of events, so here’s just snippets:
In a motel with people. I can’t remember Stan, but I remember another guy, short, brown hair, much younger than me, no idea who it was. We were at one point sitting very close to each other and I put my arm around him and start petting him, but it wasn’t romantic, more like the way I’d pet my dogs. But I didn’t want it to get romantic for him. I remember being on a bus and traveling through what looked like travel promo pictures of Northern Africa…Morocco…minarets and palm trees, but lots of lakes as well, which was odd. I loved all the water. We had to deliver stuff to some place, some stuff wrapped in pink styrofoam insulation sheets. I have no idea what we were delivering. I was driving the bus and when I pulled into the place we were supposed to drop off our load, I couldn’t stop the bus. I pulled up a driveway and kept applying the break, but the bus kept inching ahead very slowly, so it went up on the curb. Then I had to maneuver it to prevent it from smashing into a building. It was very strange.
I also had a strange wild animal that was very friendly. I don’t know what the animal was. It was maybe cat-size, but definitely not a cat. I was in a building that had this wild animal farm around it. There were sheep and the sheep were being herded by some animal. When I went outside of the building, the sheep were running into us (us being the nameless people I was with) I took the other animal that was friendly and tried to carry it with me, but it got wild and wanted to escape.
Stan and I were in front of a house, looking in. Although it seemed like it was the beginning of some “House Hunters” show, and we were only looking at a house through the the eyes of TV and not part of the physical experience, it changed and it was like we were right there staring inside the house through a large front window. The house seemed like a ranch house that had major remodeling throughout many decades. The kitchen was large and faced the front. All kitchen cabinets were painted brown/light beige in a glossy oil paint, covering all imperfections and many other generations of paint jobs. It was nasty. I don’t think I could ever live in a house with painted kitchen cabinets. I noticed some strange plumbing under the sink, like really old pipes from maybe the 19th century. They too had been painted beige. Nothing in the kitchen was arranged in a normal kitchen layout. The olive green stove was next to the olive green refrigerator on the opposite wall as the sink and other appliances. There were some strange appliances that I didn’t know what they were; I assumed they were trash compactors or some handyman’s desk with drills and widgets. The washer and dryer were also in the kitchen, plus a microwave atop a dishwasher. There were no tables or chairs for sitting down on.
Then people started to appear; older people, not quite aged parents age, maybe more like 65-70 years old or so. But still old enough to have a goofy sense about them. Some older guy seemed to want to offer us some food, and brought out some vegetable dip from the fridge. He said laughingly that it was “Velvet Underground Vegetable Spread.” I thought that was hilarious, and took the plastic tub of spread from him, lifted up the top and spoke into it, “Lou?” Then I said, “Maybe there’s some John Cale in it.” (Get it? Cale? kale? vegetable? Weird how one can make jokes/puns in one’s sleep) But the old people were all being very noisy and didn’t hear my joke. Then Stan tries to say it louder, like “Maybe there’s some John Cale in the vegetable spread” in hopes that would make the old guy laugh. Unfortunately, the guys were old gits and although they were probably the age of the surviving members of the Velvets, there’s a strange sort of age disjointedness that goes on amongst people that they only seem to know about music that preceded them, not music that was created by their generational/chronological peers. Especially music that was as obscure as the VU was at the time they were listening to music in their younger days. These 65-70 year old people in the ugly beige kitchen seemed no different than how I remember 65-70 year old people from 40 years ago.
Then I find the cardboard box that the “Velvet Underground Vegetable Spread” came in and take a look at it. No where on the box did it actually say “Velvet Underground,” so I had to wonder where this guy was coming from, the guy who originally said that. But the box did say something weird. It had the name of my street as the brand or style something. It said “W_______o Street Vegetable Spread.” I went to show it to Stan, telling him that the story gets weirder and weirder.